The Imbolc Serpent
by Angie Astravic
Summary: The traditional climax of the Dark Wizards' Ball is the waking of the Imbolc Serpent. As the "Dark Wizards" are strictly fancy dress and the Serpent doesn't exist, Harry isn't too worried ... until the Imbolc Serpent actually turns up.


**Alternate Universe Note:** Because Harry's fifth year summer turned out so differently in this timeline (read "The Serpent of Lord Voldemort"), this is the first time he's met either Tonks or Emmeline Vance. 

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**THE IMBOLC SERPENT**

  
'... and for the close of our Dark Revels we shall be travelling to Cornwall, to await the coming of the Imbolc Serpent!' 

Lady Tobermory gave a breathless little laugh. Despite the magnificent necklace of gold, amber and ivory skulls that covered her front, she did not, in Harry's opinion, make a particularly convincing Dark witch -- too short, too plump, too rosy-cheeked and above all, too giggly. 

Yet in a way this was quite fitting. A fortnight previously, Harry had been flabbergasted to receive an invitation to the Dark Wizards' Ball, addressed to _Harry Potter, Parselmouth_. Hermione, however, had assured him that no actual Dark Magic was involved: the Dark Wizards' Ball was strictly fancy dress. 

Even so, he would never have agreed to go had Draco Malfoy not made such scathing remarks about Hermione's interest in visiting Tobermory Castle. Harry had accepted the invitation for the sole purpose of bringing her along; the chance to pay Malfoy back by granting Hermione's wish was too good to pass up. 

It still felt rather like tempting fate with Voldemort so recently revived, though, and Harry hadn't been able to completely shake the suspicion that there had to be some sort of real Dark Arts mixed up in this somehow. He didn't much like the sound of this -- this in-bulk serpent. 

'You did say there'd be no Dark Magic, didn't you?' he muttered to Hermione. 

'Waiting for the Imbolc Serpent isn't Dark Magic,' said Lupin, overhearing them (as a known werewolf, he too had been invited to the Dark Wizards' Ball). 'Although I'm afraid it will be something of a waste of our time. The Imbolc Serpent is a myth, it's a bit like staying up to try and see Father Christmas ...' 

'Does the Imbolc Serpent bring presents?' asked Hermione curiously. 

'No,' said Lupin, 'but the Serpent is very wise. Once a year, when the days first begin to lengthen -- at around this time, in fact -- he emerges from his cave, and in exchange for a cauldron of ewe's milk he'll answer any question you care to put to him. Not many people remember that old tradition. Lady Tobermory must have really done her homework --' 

'Or somebody must have done,' snorted Professor McGonagall. 

She had come to the Dark Wizards' Ball with Professor Snape to help keep an eye on the Hogwarts students (most of them Slytherins) who were attending. Harry had got the distinct impression over the course of the evening that her estimation of Lady Tobermory's intelligence was not the highest. 

'Pity he isn't real, actually,' said Lupin, almost to himself. 'We could use his advice on fighting Voldemort ...' 

As Lupin spoke, silver goblets of milky punch appeared on the many small tables that dotted the ballroom. 

'The cups are Portkeys,' cried Lady Tobermory merrily. 'Drink up and you'll be transported to the Serpent Rocks.' 

'Not yet!' Professor McGonagall called sharply to the students gathered round her. 'We'll all go together when we go ...' Once everyone had a goblet in their hands, she said, 'On the count of three --' 

'Here's mud up your bottom!' said Tonks with a wink at Malfoy, who gave her an affronted glare. 

The pale, dark-haired young witch (who bore the unfortunate forename of Nymphadora) was Lupin's partner. For some reason, Malfoy had taken a dislike to her from the instant he set eyes on her in the Hogwarts Entrance Hall. 

Harry downed his punch and felt the jerk of the Portkey behind his navel, pulling him through a howling whirlwind of colour to land staggering onto a rocky beach. Witches and wizards were materialising on all sides of him; luckily their goblets seemed charmed to be spill-proof. Although nearly morning, it was quite dark and extremely cold. Harry shivered, wishing he had his cloak. 

'_Inc-c-cendio_,' said Hermione, her teeth chattering. 

A bright blue fire sprang up. The group from Hogwarts clustered around it to warm themselves. Other guests were thinking along the same lines as Hermione -- fires were being conjured up all over the shore. By the glow of the flames, Harry saw that they had arrived in a sort of cove surrounded by towering cliffs. At the base of the escarpment a standing stone of weathered granite rose from the ground, marking the entrance to a cave. Lady Tobermory stood beside it with a large silver cauldron. 

Spotting Harry, she waved at him vigorously. 

'Harry! Harry! This way!' Her Sonorus-amplified voice boomed across the sand. 'Our Parselmouth will do the calling!' 

'_I'll_ do the calling?' said Harry. 

Lady Tobermory was beckoning even more frantically. People were turning to stare. 

'Oh, go on, it can't do any harm,' said Professor McGonagall crossly. 

She gave Harry a small push. He stumbled forward, making his way slowly over the uneven ground. 

'And here's Harry!' said Lady Tobermory, when he reached her side. 'Now stand before the stone, dear, and call the Serpent. Tell him we've brought ewe's milk!' she added, laying a hand on the rim of the cauldron. 

Harry faced the standing stone. Near the top was a carved serpent, with an inscription below it in some unfamiliar alphabet. Feeling rather stupid, he spoke to the snake on the stone. 

'Imbolc Serpent? Hello the -- er -- cavern.' 

His words echoed back to him in a hiss of Parseltongue, then silence fell once more. Harry stood there, arms folded against the chill, as the minutes crept by. The sky was growing noticeably brighter. He wondered what Lady Tobermory would do when the Serpent failed to show up ... 

Then it struck him that the source of the increasing light was not the sun but the mouth of the cave. Harry watched, his mind blank as though a sponge had wiped it clean, as the Imbolc Serpent slithered out. It was larger than the Basilisk he'd fought in the Chamber of Secrets -- almost as long as a dragon. Its hide was white and luminous, with splotches of pale grey running down its back like clouds on the moon. 

The Serpent's molten silver eyes swept the crowd, all of whom seemed just as bewitched as Harry. Its gaze fixed on Hermione. Harry looked vacantly on as it glided towards her ... lowered its head ... flickered its tongue whilst she stared up, oblivious ... 

'Leave her alone!' shouted Harry at the top of his lungs. 

Wrenching himself from his trance, he drew his wand, preparing to cast a Conjunctivitis Curse. But if the snake went writhing about in agony, it would crush the people around it, starting with Hermione -- 

With astonishing speed for such a massive beast, the Imbolc Serpent whipped round to face him. 

'_Accio Hermione_!' yelled Harry. 

From opposite side of the cove she was flung into his arms, nearly knocking him to the ground. It was only with great effort that Harry kept the two of them on their feet and his wand pointed at the Serpent. 

'You stay back!' he hissed at it. 

'Good Heavens!' said the Serpent. 'It can talk!' 

It had a voice bigger than any snake Harry had ever heard, like the rushing of a stream swollen beyond its banks by melted snow. 

'I wasn't going to hurt her,' the Serpent went on, sounding a tad miffed, 'and a Conjunctivitis Curse wouldn't have worked anyway. We snakes don't have eyelids as dragons do -- our eyes are protected by clear scales, and there's too much magic in mine for mere jinxes to get through.' It paused meditatively, then amended, 'Well, most of us don't have eyelids. That boa constrictor you freed from the zoo had kelpie blood in him, unless I'm much mistaken.' 

'How did you know about that?' said Harry, thunderstruck. 

The snake gave him a patronising look. 

'I _am_ the Imbolc Serpent,' it said. 

Harry abruptly recalled his conversation with Lupin. 

'And you'll answer a question if I give you ewe's milk?' 

'Certainly,' said the Serpent. 

Harry carefully let go of Hermione. Gazing bemusedly at the Serpent, she hadn't reacted in the slightest way to what had just happened to her, but thankfully proved still capable of standing on her own. 

'There's the ewe's milk,' Harry said, pointing to Lady Tobermory's cauldron, 'and my question is, how can we stop Voldemort?' 

The Imbolc Serpent lapped daintily at the cauldron, then gave a sputtering laugh. 

'You wouldn't believe me if I told you,' it said. 'But if you'll change into a snake, you can see for yourself.' 

Harry gaped. The fact that he could transform himself into a serpent was a deep secret, one which he'd shared only with Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore. 

'How did you ... oh, right. Why do I have to --' he looked nervously around to make sure his fellow guests were still entranced, '-- turn into a snake?' 

'Ewe's milk won't give the Sight to a human,' said the Serpent. 'Don't worry about them, they won't remember any of this.' 

Harry drew a deep breath and transformed. Hermione and Lady Tobermory grew into giantesses; the Serpent stretched out like a motorway. The crash of the waves against the beach reverberated through his body and the air was filled with smells -- stone and salt water and human sweat, metal and milk and the indescribable odour of the Imbolc Serpent itself. 

The Serpent stuck its forked tongue into the cauldron and let a puddle-sized drop fall from one tip onto a large, flat rock. The smell of the ewe's milk was rich and creamy, rather to Harry's surprise (he knew from experience that most human food held little appeal for him as a snake). He crawled over and began to drink. 

From the Serpent's talk of 'the Sight', Harry had expected to receive the answer to his question in a vision, but it didn't happen that way. The information simply appeared inside his head, as if it had always been there: Harry could stop Voldemort by taking his place. The prediction Mr Weasley had been so afraid of was a real one; in the last years of the millennium, a Dark Lord was destined to rise to power -- but it could be Harry instead of Voldemort. 

'Me take Voldemort's place?' said Harry in a strangled voice. 'You're mad, I'm too young, I -- I've not finished school yet ...' 

The Imbolc Serpent lifted its head from the cauldron, where it had been greedily gulping milk. 

'You're older than Riddle was when he took the first Dark Lord's place,' it observed. 'Six days older, in fact. He hadn't finished school yet, either, as I recall.' 

'Hang on, the _first_ Dark Lord?' said Harry. 

'Yes, they're a bit like buses, Dark Lords,' said the Serpent. 'You wait and you wait, for a thousand years -- then three of them come along, one right after the other.' 

Once more Harry had the peculiar sensation of knowledge trickling directly into his brain. 

'Noddy Crackenthorpe,' he said flatly. 

Harry had never heard of the man before the ewe's milk brought his name to mind, and neither had anyone else -- Crackenthorpe had been very careful of that. An expert on the Founders and a secret Parselmouth, he'd discovered the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets over a century ago whilst teaching History of Magic at Hogwarts. Having no interest in purging the school of Muggle-borns, Crackenthorpe had let the Basilisk slumber on, but took with him the books and parchments that Slytherin had left in the Chamber for his heir. 

After decades of study, he'd started work on an enchantment that in the fullness of time would have allowed him to seize total power over the wizarding world -- had he not surprised a fifteen-year-old Tom Riddle burgling his library and been hexed to death for his pains. Crackenthorpe's notes on his research were hidden elsewhere; Riddle never found them or even learnt of their existence ... or realised that he'd vanquished the first Dark Lord of the millennium's end. 

Harry's insides felt suddenly leaden. 

'But -- I don't _want_ to be a Dark Lord,' he said desperately. 

The Serpent ran a tip of its tongue down his back in what was clearly meant to be a comforting gesture. 

'There's Dark Lords and there's Dark Lords,' it said. 'Voldemort has used the Dark Arts to kill, maim, torture and cast a blight upon the lives of thousands of people. You, on the other hand, have occasionally spoken to snakes. Yet in the eyes of your own kind, both of you are Dark wizards.' 

'No,' said Harry, shaking his head. 'No, there must be some other way.' 

But there was no other way; he knew it as surely as he knew his own name. _The authentic predictions of a genuine Seer always come true_ -- Mr Weasley had said it, and Etin's Last was one of them. 

Harry slumped against the rock in misery. For what seemed an age he lay there, feeling the tide pound the shore. Then, slowly, he became conscious of another vibration, from somewhere far inland. It grew steadily stronger ... drowning out the ocean ... he couldn't imagine what might be causing it ... 

'Look, Harry!' said the Imbolc Serpent. 'My bride is coming!' 

Harry raised his head. A second Imbolc Serpent, blazing golden and even bigger than the first, was crawling over the hills towards them. Harry's Serpent slithered up the beach to meet her ... as they drew level, the pair of them became too bright to look at ... Harry turned human again to cover his eyes with his hands ... and saw that he was staring into the newly risen sun. 

The crowd began to stir, murmuring to each other in astonished tones. 

'Did you see?' 

'Could have sworn --' 

'-- the Imbolc Serpent!' 

Apparently most of them had woken just in time to catch a glimpse of the Serpents as they vanished into the horizon. 

'Harry?' said Hermione in a bewildered voice. 'What's happened?' 

Harry gazed at her numbly. How could he explain to Hermione that their only hope of defeating Voldemort was for Harry to become a Dark Lord himself? She'd think he'd lost his mind. Or worse, she'd think he _hadn't_ lost his mind -- that he was at last revealing the Dark tendencies he'd had all along. And even if Harry was willing to have a go at supplanting Voldemort, the thing seemed all but impossible ... 

'Mr Potter! Miss Granger!' 

Professor McGonagall was hurrying towards them, looking outraged. 

'Miss Granger, have you been Apparating?' 

'I don't know, I don't remember,' said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. 

'She didn't Apparate, I Summoned her,' said Harry quickly. 'I thought the Serpent was attacking her.' 

Professor McGonagall's gaze flicked to the cave's entrance, then returned to Harry. She viewed him with an expression of deep concern. Harry had difficulty meeting her eyes. 

Professor McGonagall turned to Lady Tobermory, who appeared still half entranced -- and caught sight of the standing stone. She stared at it for several seconds, lips moving soundlessly. Her mouth went suddenly thin. 

'Madam Pomfrey can have a look at you both when we get back to Hogwarts,' she said grimly. 'We'll Portkey there at once. Come along ...' 

They followed her to the spot where the rest of the Hogwarts contingent were waiting, buzzing excitedly to one another about the Serpent. 

'Harry, are you all right?' said Lupin. 

'He'll be fine, Remus,' said Professor McGonagall. 'He was standing a bit too close when the Confundus Charm went off, that's all.' 

'Confundus Charm?' said Lupin. 

'The one Lady Tobermory used to make us believe we saw the Imbolc Serpent,' said Professor McGonagall, her nostrils flaring. 'Wanted to end things with a bang, I suppose.' 

'I wouldn't have thought Adela had the power to put a mass Confundus Charm on a crowd this size,' said Lupin, sounding quite impressed. 

'Of course she didn't cast it herself, it was an enchantment on the standing stone,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Activated by the sunrise, most likely. There was a rune inscription -- _The Serpent Goes Forth with the Sun_.' 

'You mean -- the snakes and everything -- it was all a Confundus Charm?' said Harry. 

'Precisely, Potter,' said Professor McGonagall. 'So you see, Miss Granger was never in any danger at all.' 

Harry would have laughed aloud with relief, if not for the extra worry it might cause Professor McGonagall about his mental state. The idea of him, Harry, replacing Voldemort -- how could he have taken it seriously for even a minute? It was nearly as ludicrous as the notion of a Dark Lord named Noddy. 

Professors McGonagall and Snape handed out bronze badges in the shape of winged boars: the Portkeys that would be returning them to Hogwarts. In no time at all, the entire group was back in the Entrance Hall. The yawning students rapidly dispersed, heading for their dormitories. Harry and Hermione hung back to say goodbye to Lupin. 

'I'll be sending house-elves to fetch our things from Tobermory Castle,' Professor McGonagall said to Lupin and Tonks. 'If either of you would like a cup of tea, or breakfast ...' 

'Perhaps someone should go with them and see that Lady Tobermory is all right,' said Lupin. 'She was standing fairly close to that stone herself.' 

'Fortunate for her, then, not to have enough brains for a Confundus Charm to scramble,' said Professor McGonagall tartly. 'And why aren't you two in the hospital wing?' 

She turned her scowl on Harry and Hermione. As they made to leave, Emmeline Vance, the tall, stately-looking witch who had accompanied Hagrid to the ball, spoke up. 

'I'd like a word with Harry in my office before he sees Madam Pomfrey.' 

'Of course,' said Professor McGonagall. 

Harry eyed her in confusion. Emmeline Vance was not, so far as he knew, a Hogwarts teacher. Did she mean to take him somewhere outside the castle? 

Observing his perplexity, Madam Vance gave him a small smile. 

'The Polyjuice Potion should be wearing off right about -- now,' she said. 

With a wave of her wand, she transformed her bottle green dress into a handsomely embroidered set of wizard's robes, and not a moment too soon. Her hair grew longer and more silvery, an equally long beard sprouted from her chin and Harry was suddenly gaping up into the beaming face of Albus Dumbledore. 

Harry followed Dumbledore up the marble staircase, wondering what the Headmaster wished to talk to him about. He could think of nothing he'd done at the Dark Wizards' Ball that would earn him a telling off -- surely Dumbledore realised he'd had no part in Fred and George's spectacular gatecrash. Maybe it was something to do with why Dumbledore, too, had been attending the ball in disguise ... 

When they reached Dumbledore's office, he sat down behind his desk and gave Harry a piercing stare. 

'So,' he said. 'You spoke with the Imbolc Serpent. Not an opportunity that many wizards have had, to be certain ...' 

It took a few seconds for the full meaning of Dumbledore's words to sink in. When it did, Harry felt as though a bucket of freezing water had been poured down his throat and into his stomach. 

'You -- you saw it too? It _wasn't_ just a Confundus Charm?' 

'Not a Confundus Charm, no,' said Dumbledore, 'but rather the most powerful Entrancing Enchantment I have ever encountered. Nonetheless, I saw, and remembered.' 

Harry buried his face in his hands. 

'Of course, as you were speaking Parseltongue, I didn't understand a word of it,' said Dumbledore, a note of worry creeping into his voice. 'Er -- what did the Serpent say to you?' 

'I asked him how to stop Voldemort,' said Harry. 'He said the only way was for me to take Voldemort's place. Etin's Last Prediction is coming true, but either of us could be the Dark Lord.' 

'Ah,' said Dumbledore. 

There was a long and (to Harry at least) highly unpleasant silence. 

'Harry,' said Dumbledore at last, 'do not let this upset you unduly. Very little is known about the Imbolc Serpent -- I myself would have regarded the creature as mere legend before this evening. We cannot be certain how truthful or how accurate its information is ... and even if the Serpent is correct, predictions are often fulfilled in ways we would never expect. It would be foolish to ignore this, certainly, but it would be more foolish to dwell on it too deeply. What's coming will come ...' 

Dumbledore's voice trailed off for an instant, then went on more briskly, '... for now, you'd best be getting down to the hospital wing. Though I doubt Madam Pomfrey will find much amiss, you'll feel better for a night's -- for a morning's rest.' 

Harry hadn't truly registered how tired he was until Dumbledore mentioned sleep. He'd been up all night ... he was no longer sure what to make of the Serpent or its answer ... Dumbledore had told him not to dwell on it ... well, he was too exhausted to do that. 

But from his last glimpse of Dumbledore's face as he headed out the door, it was plain to Harry that Dumbledore, for one, would be dwelling on this very deeply indeed ... 

**— the end —**

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**Author's Note:**

This fic is the latest in the _The Legacy of Slytherin_ series; see my Author Page for a complete story listing and suggested reading order. The arrival of Harry's invitation to the Dark Wizards' Ball is described in "A Terrible Joke". Eventually there will be a real Dark Wizards' Ball fic, but I'm not sure when. The plot hasn't fully come together yet, and it won't have much affect the overall _Legacy of Slytherin_ plotline anyway. 

The festival of Imbolc was an old Celtic holiday that inspired the modern Groundhog Day. The Serpent Rocks are mentioned in the Agatha Christie short story, "Ingots of Gold"; if a real place of that name exists in Cornwall, I haven't been able to find it by Googling. The kelpie is one of the many terrifying monsters, I mean, interesting creatures, described in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, and if you've been reading "Harmless and Easily Domesticated" (and if not, why haven't you?), you already know how the rest of this paragraph goes. 

The next story in _Legacy of Slytherin_ is "Millarca", but I haven't quite managed to finish the outline yet and it's looking to be fairly long and difficult to write. I'll be using the Aitvaras Quidditch story (tentatively titled "The Curse of the Aitvaras") as filler; the first chapter should be ready around mid-April. 

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_ Disclaimer: All characters and concepts from the Harry Potter series copyright J K Rowling. _


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